My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage

Chapter 35:

The director glanced at Carrie with a pained expression of apology and, bypassing any form of consultation, declared, “Very well, Lise will take the lead role.”

Carrie, momentarily immobilized by the news, let a mocking smile flicker across her features. She felt no bitterness toward the director’s choice. After all, in the cutthroat world of business, profit always took precedence—no one would jeopardize substantial benefits for a mere acquaintance.

From the moment of his arrival, Kristopher had been there not for her but to safeguard Lise. Was there any chance at all that someone would stand up for Carrie? Not wanting to dwell on it, she motioned for Ruby to bring the car around and trudged toward the exit.

“Kristopher, I feel like I’m suffocating,” Lise gasped faintly, gripping Kristopher’s sleeve for support.

Kristopher’s expression immediately clouded with concern. Ignoring the thought of waiting for an ambulance, he scooped Lise into his arms and made for the exit with urgent strides.

Carrie had resigned herself to despair, but witnessing Kristopher’s evident distress, she stopped in her tracks, the image vividly recalling her own rescue by firefighters days ago.

Suddenly, Kristopher’s shoulder brushed against hers. He was moving too fast and inadvertently bumped into her. Still nursing a sore calf, Carrie had put weight on her uninjured leg. The sudden jolt threw her off balance, and she toppled sideways. In a frantic attempt to right herself, she reached out and clutched a nearby folding table. The table buckled under her grasp, unable to bear her weight, and collapsed, scattering cups everywhere.

Carrie tumbled to the floor with a thud, the folding table and cups clattering down onto her leg, dousing the sore spot with scalding water. “Ah!” she cried out, her voice laced with unexpected pain.noveldrama

Kristopher threw her a brief, sidelong glance at the sound of her distress. However, it was merely a fleeting look. As Lise’s frail groan pierced the air, he coldly turned his back, determinedly escorting her away without a backward glance.

Carrie was left wondering whether it was the sharp sting in her leg or the profound sorrow in her heart that caused her eyes to flood with tears.

“Are you alright?” The director dashed over, his movements brisk as he lifted the folding table that had pinned her down. Stewart was close behind, his hands gentle as he assisted Carrie to her feet.

He faltered, his voice tinged with hesitation as he ventured, “Should we head to the hospital?”

Amidst the chaos, Carrie barely had a moment to assess her injuries or catch the worried looks exchanged in the room. She responded hastily, “Thank you. I’m okay. My agent will take me there later.” With that, she limped through the doorway, her head bowed solemnly.

She made her escape like Cinderella fleeing the ball at the stroke of midnight, though draped in humiliation rather than elegance. Her pride was now as fragmented as scattered shards of glass.

Carrie had just emerged from the building when she spotted Ruby’s beige car screeching to a stop in front of her.

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